


told myself you'd be gone by sunrise

by Anonymous



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Changing Tenses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:18:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5278124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baekhyun is immortal. Chanyeol is not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	told myself you'd be gone by sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> fill for a prompt i found on tumblr: "Person A is immortal and worried about what to do when Person B dies." not exactly what the prompt called for but i gave it a go
> 
> i had to type this up as a draft on tumblr in order to be able to copy and paste it correctly for some reason so the formatting is a little weird, sorry
> 
> this was also proofread very quickly so there are probably mistakes that i missed
> 
> title taken from pretty thoughts by alina baraz

“Chanyeol, would you _please_ stop trying to steal the neighbor’s dog and come help me set the table?”

Chanyeol walks back into the apartment, closing the door to the balcony behind himself. “You don’t understand,” he says, trying to reason with Baekhyun. “No dog should be left on a balcony _alone_. What if she squeezes between the bars on the railing and falls? I’m trying to save her life, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “She can’t squeeze through the railing,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re just trying to commit dog theft.”

Chanyeol pouts at him before walking over to the kitchen counter and opening their silverware drawer, grabbing two sets of chopsticks and two spoons. “She totally _could_ ,” he mumbles. “She’s small enough.”

“No, she’s not. And just how do you plan on Spiderman-ing your way back onto our balcony with a chihuahua in your arms?” When Chanyeol doesn’t say anything, Baekhyun nods. “That’s what I thought. Now stop being a baby and eat with me.”

* * *

 

“You know, pretty soon people are going to start thinking I’m a cradle robber. Or your sugar daddy. Or _both_.” Chanyeol touches the corners of his eyes again, frowning at the wrinkles there. “I’m not _that_ old, am I? I’m not old enough to have _wrinkles_.”

Baekhyun comes up behind him and wraps his arms around him, pressing kisses to Chanyeol’s back and the little knobs of his spine. “You don’t have that many,” he says, peeking his head around Chanyeol’s bicep to look at him in the mirror. “You still look young. You _still_ are young.”

Chanyeol hums thoughtfully. “Not as young as I’d like to be,” he says with a shrug.

Baekhyun doesn’t say anything.

* * *

 

Baekhyun has always hated his curse - that’s what it is: a _curse_ , not a blessing like so many writers like to make it out to be. There’s nothing fun about watching all of the people he meets grow old and die while he gets left behind, eventually ending up alone and forced to move to a new town to start over again and repeat the cycle. He’s been doing it for so long he doesn’t even know how long he’s been around - several centuries, for sure, but just how many, he isn’t sure.

He’s known thousands - maybe millions - of people in the time he’s been on this planet. Some stand out more than others - his closest friends, his lovers, and a few people who weren’t a part of his life for long but left deep impacts on him. He doesn’t like to think about them, not really; they all mark specific eras, periods of time that have passed and while they shouldn’t be forgotten - while Baekhyun isn’t _able_ to forget them, he isn’t going to dwell on them. There’s no point in living in the past, trying to exist in memories and dreams, when there is a present full of people who are equally as important to him and deserve his full attention and affection while they’re still here for him to give it to them.

Baekhyun doesn’t really mind the beginning, when he first meets someone. That part is nice; it’s fun to get to know people and spend time with them. He’s always kind of liked that part. It’s the middle and endings that he absolutely hates - when the people he has grown to love start to noticeably age, when their metaphorical timers start to speed up a little. He hates that part.

Unfortunately (or luckily, depending on your viewpoint), he is at the middle part with Chanyeol. Baekhyun likes to think it’s only the _beginning_ of the middle - Chanyeol’s hair isn’t turning gray yet but he’s started to get wrinkles and he’s not quite as energetic as he used to be. It’s really just subtle changes but when Chanyeol starts to point them out himself Baekhyun can’t exactly ignore them anymore.

Chanyeol knows about the curse - about all of it, actually. Baekhyun has always been open with him, and so he’s told Chanyeol about all of the changes he’s seen happen to the world, all of the people he’s cherished and subsequently lost. Chanyeol has never been jealous of Baekhyun’s past lovers, understands that they are a part of Baekhyun’s past and he is a part of Baekhyun’s present, and eventually he, too, will be a part of Baekhyun’s past and someone else will be his present.

* * *

 

“When do you think I’ll get gray hair?”

“I don’t know.”

Chanyeol hums and nuzzles his face against Baekhyun’s cheek, ever the affectionate one. “I’ll dye my whole head gray as soon as I get the first one,” he says.

“Then it’ll all fall out.”

Chanyeol laughs. “Will you still love me if I go bald one day?”

Baekhyun turns his head to look at him. “Yes.”

* * *

 

Chanyeol’s hip pops as he stands up from the couch, a loud, hollow sound that makes him grasp and grab at his hip even though it wasn’t painful. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says, looking up from his book at him. “Was it your knee again?”

“No, it was my _hip_.” Chanyeol laughs at himself, fake limping into their kitchen so he can get another glass of water. “I’m already falling apart, aren’t I?” It’s not really a question, and he’s not serious at all, but the sentence still stabs at Baekhyun’s chest a little. 

* * *

 

Baekhyun met Chanyeol in college. It was their freshman year (although it was technically Baekhyun’s twelfth time being a freshman) and they had been in the same math class. Chanyeol had been a bright-eyed, goofy nineteen-year-old who was eager to make new friends as soon as possible, and when he saw Baekhyun sitting by himself in the seventh row he marched himself right up to the smaller man, slid into the seat beside him, and introduced himself. Baekhyun was hesitant to accept his offer of friendship - it was his first time back in Seoul since the city was liberated from Japan at the end of the second world war, so he wasn’t exactly sure how much the people had changed with the city - but Chanyeol was persistent and proved to be kind and an excellent companion, and so after a few weeks Baekhyun had begun to consider a friend.

Through Chanyeol he met several other people - Sehun, a smart-mouthed eighteen-year-old who Chanyeol knew from high school, and who liked to whine until one of his hyungs got tired of it and got him whatever he was wanting; Kyungsoo, a man who refused to call Chanyeol ‘hyung’ despite being born in a different year than Chanyeol and had an awful case of astigmatism but refused to wear glasses so he always looked like he was seconds away from murdering someone. Then there was Jongdae, who was just as loud and obnoxious as Chanyeol and liked to push at peoples’ boundaries but was always quick to apologize for his actions and the actions of others if needed. The last person Chanyeol introduced him to was Yifan, an exchange student from China who ended up becoming Chanyeol’s roommate their junior year. He was almost more ridiculous than Chanyeol ( _almost_ ) and, despite all of his concerns about being “cool”, he always seemed to be the most embarrassing out of all of them.

Baekhyun liked the little group of friends he’d made through Chanyeol, and during the four years of college he’d went through they all grew close and learned each others’ quirks and how to fit together. Baekhyun felt so at ease with them that he told them about his “immortal status” after they had all gotten their bachelor degrees. He wasn’t surprised when they didn’t believe him, but he didn’t worry about it - they all believed him when they kept aging and he didn’t, after all (and _maybe_ he showed them pictures he’d had taken throughout the decades since photography was created).

He and Chanyeol began dating when Chanyeol was twenty-five, with a little push from Jongdae who told Baekhyun that he was tired of listening to Chanyeol pine over him and “if you like him back - which I know you do, Baekhyun, don’t lie to me - _please_ just tell him already so I can finally live in peace again.” Baekhyun did like Chanyeol, so he told him, a little nervous because just because Chanyeol liked him back it didn’t mean he wanted to be with him, but Baekhyun had been worried for no reason. Chanyeol had been ecstatic and a little disbelieving that Baekhyun liked him back, but he eagerly said yes to a date with him. And, to put it simply, the first date was a success, and so was the second, and the third, and the seventh, and the twentieth, and - you get the point.

* * *

 

Chanyeol took the news of his mother dying surprisingly well considering how close he was to her. That’s not to say that he took it _well_ , because he really didn’t - he cried, he screamed, he locked himself in the bathroom and almost broke the mirror above the sink - but his reaction could have been worse. Baekhyun wanted to comfort him but he didn’t know how, hadn’t seen Chanyeol during the grieving process yet and so it was all new to him and really, he had _no clue_ what to do other than stay out of his boyfriend’s way until the taller man was ready to talk.

Chanyeol wasn’t ready to talk until 11:30 that night. He acted the complete opposite of how he usually acted - instead of being the big spoon he almost begged Baekhyun to let him be the little spoon, needing the reassurance, the comfort, of Baekhyun’s arms around him and his body curled against his back. Instead of being talkative and obnoxious until he was about three seconds away from passing out mid-sentence, he was quiet and unnervingly still in Baekhyun’s embrace. Baekhyun didn’t know what to do other than hold him as tightly as he could and press little kisses to Chanyeol’s shoulder.

“I just can’t believe it,” Chanyeol finally said after they’d laid there for a long while. He sounded about exhausted as he looked. “I mean, she was so healthy, I don’t--how could she just die?”

Baekhyun wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say anything so he didn’t, and Chanyeol continued. “What am I gonna do now? My mom is--she’s _dead._ How does that just happen? I just--a _heart attack_? Really?”

Chanyeol sounded like he was about to cry again, and Baekhyun knew he couldn’t handle that again. “Ssh, ssh, I know,” he murmured. “It just happens sometimes. She’s in a better place now.”

Chanyeol started to sniffle at that. “I miss her already. She was--she meant the world to me, you know? She was my mom. My _mom_.”

“I know, baby, I know.”

The funeral was especially trying, Baekhyun realized as soon as they start to get ready for it. Chanyeol’s eyes were already bloodshot and puffier than usual and his nose was runny, and Baekhyun didn’t even have to guess that he was crying in his shower and while he got dressed.

“It’ll be okay,” he said even though he knew it wouldn’t help. ‘You’ll be okay.”

“Will I?” Chanyeol asked, and really, Baekhyun wasn’t sure.

* * *

 

There was a period of time, shortly after his first lover died, during which Baekhyun kept himself isolated from everyone around him. He didn’t want to get attached again, didn’t want to have to go through the pain of loving someone for so many years only to watch them grow old without him, and so he kept his distance. He only talked to people when he had to leave his home, he never allowed any of his acquaintances to become friends, always keeping them at arm’s length so they couldn’t cross the line between formal and informal. He made himself even lonelier than he already was for fear of getting hurt again.

Baekhyun regrets that period. He has often wondered who he missed out on meeting - what kind of people did he lose his chance to cherish, what lessons did he miss out on learning, who would have been the one to temporarily ease his loneliness if he’d just accepted his fate (or lack thereof) and allowed people into his life, into his heart? He can’t go back now and find out, but the thought still catches him from time to time.

* * *

 

Baekhyun has only been married a handful of times. Most of his past lovers either didn’t want to be married or it was simply illegal for them to marry, and so when he and Chanyeol get married it was technically only Baekhyun’s third marriage. The ceremony was a small event with only their closest friends invited (and a large framed photo of Chanyeol’s mother sitting in an empty seat at the table reserved for the Park family) and Baekhyun can honestly say it was the happiest moment of his life - and that’s saying something.

They made a lot of memories that night. Yifan embarrassed himself yet again, getting a bit too tipsy at the after-party and dancing up against Jongdae who took it as a challenge to try to one-up the awkward, gangly-limbed older man. Sehun managed to embarrass Chanyeol during his speech, bringing up memories from high school that left all of the other guests and Baekhyun in stitches and Chanyeol’s face so red he looked like he’s about to have an aneurysm. Jongdae and Kyungsoo sang a duet and immediately started bickering afterwards because Jongdae swore he hit the highest notes and Kyungsoo strongly disagreed. And then, that night, once the newlyweds had made it back home, Chanyeol carried Baekhyun over their threshold and gave Baekhyun so much pleasure that the smaller man almost passed out before they were finished. 

Baekhyun really has never been happier.

* * *

 

“Do you feel up to visiting Jongdae today?”

Chanyeol pauses, inhaling deeply. He stirs his tea a few times before sighing. “Yeah,” he says. “I mean, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Baekhyun watches him intently. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says slowly. “If you’re not ready yet, it’s fine.”

“No, no, I want to. I need to.” Chanyeol sounds like he’s trying to convince himself instead of Baekhyun. 

“Really, Chanyeol, we can wait. You don’t have to force yourself if you’re not ready.” Baekhyun reaches out to hold his hand over the table, and he feels an uncomfortable and unpleasant tug in his chest when Chanyeol squeezes his fingers and gives him a sad smile.

“I’ve waited long enough,” he says with finality. “I didn’t even go on his birthday.”

“Neither did Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun gently reminds him. “Everybody needs a little time to accept things and be strong enough to handle it.”

Chanyeol looks at him for a long moment. “Yeah,” he finally says. “You’re right.”

* * *

 

“Is this how you felt when you lost your first real friend?” Chanyeol asks, gasping through his hiccups and sobs.

Baekhyun rubs his back sympathetically, fighting back his own tears. “Yeah,” he says. “It doesn’t get any easier, either.”

Chanyeol makes a frustrated noise, wiping at his face and sighing. “It’s been a year. I don’t know why I’m still crying--”

“Ssh, stop it,” Baekhyun interrupts him. “It’s perfectly okay to still cry over him. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Every day.”

Chanyeol turns his head to look at him and another wave of tears spill from his eyes and Baekhyun pulls him closer, letting the taller man bury his face into his shoulders.

* * *

 

They lost Jongdae in a car accident when Chanyeol was forty-six. He hadn’t been wearing his seatbelt and was thrown through the windshield in a head-on collision with another car. The emergency response team managed to keep him alive until they got him to the hospital but he started to crash very quickly after they got him through the doors and couldn’t bring him back. Kyungsoo had been with him, sitting in the passenger seat, and he was in a coma for nearly three weeks before he finally woke up. The first thing he asked about was Jongdae, immediately noticing that he wasn’t there in the room, and he didn’t take the news well - at all. They didn’t need telepathy to be able to tell that he blamed himself.

Really, none of them took the news well but Chanyeol took it the hardest, not counting Kyungsoo. He’d been the one to answer the phone call, and he broke down in tears before Sehun could finish telling him what had happened. It had taken hours for Chanyeol to calm down enough that he wasn’t making himself sick, and Baekhyun held him for the rest of the night, keeping him close and wrapped up in his embrace, listening to all the things that Chanyeol had to say.

The funeral had been especially difficult. It was closed-casket, which made Chanyeol break down for the hundredth time. He, Baekhyun, Sehun, and Yifan all sat together during the service. Yifan was the only one who was able to speak about Jongdae, though he just barely managed to make it through his letter without choking on his tears. Baekhyun found it especially hard when Jongdae’s mother came up to them, tears in her eyes but a smile on her face as she thanked them for being his friend for so many years.

Baekhyun has always hated funerals, and that one had been no different.

* * *

 

“How many people have you met before me that were just like me?”

Baekhyun smiles down at Chanyeol where the taller man has his head resting in Baekhyun’s lap so Baekhyun can run his fingers through his hair. “You’re one of a kind,” he says a little teasingly.

Chanyeol pouts up at him. “You always say that,” he whines. “I’m serious this time.”

Baekhyun shakes his head at him fondly. “And so am I. I really haven’t met anyone like you. You’re probably the most unique person I’ve met.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Chanyeol seems to accept his answer and closes his eyes again to let Baekhyun go back to playing with his hair.

* * *

 

Baekhyun likes to take pictures. It’s something he’s liked to do since he was able to afford his own camera back in the ‘80s. He likes taking pictures of people, likes to have visual reminders of the people from his past, and though he never forgets names and faces it’s still nice to have a face to a name that he can easily flip to in his scrapbook and remember if he wants. He has thousands of pictures that he’s taken (not counting the photos of him and his loved ones that had been done by professionals of that era) and for the present time, Chanyeol makes up a majority of those pictures.

He likes to look at pictures of Chanyeol on nights when Chanyeol works late. He can remember every memory he has with Chanyeol just from looking at the snapshots, and really, it’s nice, to be able to hold a memory in the palm of his hand. Anybody could pick up the pictures and hold them but only Baekhyun and Chanyeol know what happened before, during and after they were taken, and that’s what makes pictures so special to Baekhyun. A picture can tell a thousand words but one must know what happened to make that picture in order to have the whole story.

* * *

 

Chanyeol groans once he gets done with his coughing fit, eyes squeezed shut from the pain in his chest. “Oh my god,” he whines, holding one hand over his chest. “I hate this.”

Baekhyun watches him with sad eyes, holding his hand tightly. “Me too,” he says quietly. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the doctor?”

“I’m fine,” Chanyeol says, shaking his head. “Really. It’s probably just a cold or something, I’ll be better by next week, I promise.”

Baekhyun doesn’t believe him but he nods and offers him a weak smile, one that Chanyeol returns brightly.

* * *

 

“I made you an appointment with Dr. Kim for next week,” Baekhyun says slowly, a little hesitantly. He sets the bowl of soup in front of Chanyeol and tries not to flinch when the aging man rolls his eyes and whines childishly.

“Why? Baekhyun, I’m _fine_ , I told you. It’s just a cold.”

“A cold that’s lasted a month?” Baekhyun says a little snappishly.

Chanyeol looks down at his bowl, blowing on the spoonful he’s raising to his mouth. “The most he’ll do is give me an antibiotic or something. It’s really not a big deal. You’re worrying over nothing, Baekhyun.”

* * *

 

Baekhyun has always hated endings.

Watching as the person he’s grown to love starts to waste away in front of him and he’s powerless to do anything but watch them - he hates that. It’s never gotten easier to deal with, has always been an experience that Baekhyun dreads but knows he has to face.

When Chanyeol is diagnosed with lung cancer, he’s just turned fifty-eight. His hair started turning gray two years ago, and his wrinkles have gotten deeper. He doesn’t tell Baekhyun the results of the tests for several days, instead reassuring his husband that he’s perfectly fine.

“It’s just a cold, like I told you! You worried over nothing. I’ll be fine in no time!”

Baekhyun doesn’t believe him, and when he calls Dr. Kim to ask him about the results himself, the doctor informs him of the truth: Stage IV lung cancer, and it looks to be aggressive. Chemo and radiation aren’t possible given Chanyeol’s already poor health, and as if Baekhyun’s world isn’t already closing in on him, the next thing Dr. Kim says makes Baekhyun’s heart stop.

“He doesn’t have much time. I’d give him another three months, probably less. I’m sorry.”

Baekhyun can’t help that his first reaction is to be angry because it simply isn’t _fair_ \- it isn’t fair that Chanyeol is such a lovely person, is one of the kindest people Baekhyun has ever met, and yet he’s the one to get _cancer_ of all things. It isn’t fair that Chanyeol’s timer is speeding up already. It isn’t fair that bad things happen to good people. And perhaps the most unfair thing of all, Baekhyun thinks, is that Baekhyun is going to be left behind _again_ , alone in the world without his other half. Baekhyun allows himself to have this moment of selfish thinking, allows himself to think about _himself_ for once and just be angry at how unfair his whole life has been - how unfair it will _continue_ to be.

He goes into his and Chanyeol’s bedroom once he’s calmed down a little, where Chanyeol is taking a nap, and flicks on the lamp beside their bed, shaking Chanyeol until he wakes up. The aging man is groggy from sleep, blinking up at him in confusion.

“What’s up, honey?” he asks, bringing his hands up to rub at his eyes.

Baekhyun can feel the tears burning his eyes but he doesn’t fight them back this time. “When were you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Chanyeol lowers his hand and looks up at Baekhyun and, when he notices the tears, frowns. “How did you find out?”

“I had to call Dr. Kim myself,” Baekhyun says. His hands are shaking, maybe his whole body, he doesn’t know. “When were you going to tell me, Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol sighs and sits up, reaching for Baekhyun’s hands. Baekhyun wants to pull away, but he also wants to be comforted so he lets himself be pulled into Chanyeol’s arms, sinking down onto the bed beside him and curling up against him. “I didn’t want to see you cry,” Chanyeol admits softly, holding him tightly. “I was going to tell you, I really was, I just didn’t know how to yet.”

Baekhyun lets himself cry. He’s been holding back his tears for so long and he’s _tired_ , physically, mentally and emotionally, and really - he just can’t do it anymore. He buries his face in Chanyeol’s chest and just sobs, loud and unrestrained, and Chanyeol holds him, running his hands up and down Baekhyun’s back. The soft kisses he presses to the top of Baekhyun’s head and the whispered words of reassurance do nothing to ease the ache in Baekhyun’s heart, and he tells Chanyeol this.

“It’s not _fair_!” he almost shouts, sitting up and looking at Chanyeol, not even bothering to wipe the tears from his face. “You don’t deserve this! You should get to grow old, super old, get ten times wrinklier and get a whole head of gray hair and go bald and end up with a cane. You deserve to live a _long_ life!”

Chanyeol frowns and tries to pull him into an embrace again. “Baekhyun, honey, sweetheart, it’s not your fault.”

Baekhyun sobs again. “I hate this,” he says. “I hate this life. I hate that you get to die while I’m stuck getting left behind every time. I hate that I’m the only one who’s going to be around to remember you in a few years. I hate that every time I give someone my heart they leave me behind. I hate being so _alone_!”

Chanyeol finally manages to pull him into a hug, Baekhyun finally going limp in defeat, and he shushes him, one hand cradling Baekhyun’s head to his chest. “Baby,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry. I wish this hadn’t happened, but we can’t change it. You know that. All we can do is make our last few months together the best days of our whole life.” 

Baekhyun wants to cry again but he just doesn’t have the tears anymore. All he can do is hiccup against Chanyeol’s chest and hold onto him tightly. “I just wish we had more time.”

“I know, honey, me too.” Chanyeol tilts Baekhyun’s face up so he can press kisses all over the shorter man’s cheeks and nose and finally his lips. “But I’m not gone yet, okay? I’m still here. I’ll be here until I can’t anymore. I promise.”

Baekhyun feels his lips wobble again but he leans forward to kiss Chanyeol again, bringing a hand up to hold his face. When he pulls back he traces all the lines and angles of Chanyeol face, staring at him to try to memorize everything, to burn it into his brain. They’ve taken thousands of pictures together but Baekhyun wants to remember him exactly like this - face a little puffy from his nap, his eyes still bright despite the heaviness of their situation, all the wrinkles on his face that make him who he is, that show the half-decade of laughing and smiling that Chanyeol’s done.

Chanyeol purses his lips when Baekhyun runs one of his fingertips over them, pressing a little kiss to them. “I love you,” he says quietly.

“I love you more.” Baekhyun kisses him again.

* * *

 

Baekhyun knows it’s not right to blame Dr. Kim for this - the doctor had no way of accurately predicting how much time Chanyeol has left, but Baekhyun thinks that as a doctor he could have been at least a little bit closer with his prediction.

Chanyeol’s condition deteriorates a lot faster than they were told it would. He goes from being only a little sick to being bedridden, so weak he can hardly move enough to roll over into a more comfortable position. He can still speak, thank god, but it still breaks Baekhyun’s heart every time he looks at him. 

Chanyeol tries to stay lively, doesn’t want to be more of a burden than he already feels he is, and so every time a friend or his sister come into the room he smiles as brightly as he can and greets them enthusiastically. He hates that he’s so weak and they can see that, and for once in his life he is actually unhappy. 

“I hate this,” he tells Baekhyun one evening after his younger-looking husband has put away the dishes and silverware he used to feed Chanyeol his supper. “I think I hate this more than you do, no offense.”

Baekhyun smiles at him sadly. “I don’t doubt that.” He crawls into bed beside Chanyeol and curls up against his side, helping the taller man put an arm around him so they can cuddle as best as they can. “I wish I could do more to help you, though. I wish I could take this all away.”

Chanyeol starts to laugh at that but he gets winded almost as soon as he starts, coughing uncontrollably. Baekhyun pulls away to give him space to catch his breath before he curls back up against him. “It’s fine,” Chanyeol says because he doesn’t have any other words to respond with. “I’m sorry.”

Baekhyun shakes his head and sighs. He’s so tired. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he says dismissively. “You didn’t ask for this.”

They lay together for a long while in silence, just soaking up the others’ presence. Baekhyun starts to feel sleepy and is almost certain that Chanyeol has fallen asleep when suddenly the taller man speaks up. “You know, it kinda sucks that I didn’t get to check off very many things on my bucket list.”

Baekhyun sighs again. “I wish we could have checked off everything.”

“You should do it for me,” Chanyeol says thoughtfully. “Carry my picture around and do the stuff on my list that way it can kinda be like I did them.” 

Baekhyun frowns but he doesn’t argue. “I can do that,” he says. “Whatever you want.”

Chanyeol manages to squeeze him a little tighter. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

* * *

 

Baekhyun has experienced more than his fair share of losing loved ones, and even after centuries upon centuries of burying his lovers, it hasn’t gotten any easier. The pain of losing the person he loves the most in the world never dulls; the emptiness in his chest that consumes his whole being the moment that person dies never gets easier to bear. Losing his present - being powerless to stop the present from becoming the past... That’s something he will never get used to, something that will never become easier.

When Chanyeol dies and leaves Baekhyun behind, the feeling is no different from all the other times. Baekhyun feels empty and lost even though he still has his friends. He doesn’t have his other half anymore. He’s incomplete in the worst way and now there is nothing left for him to do but pack up his things, keep a few souvenirs to remember Chanyeol by, and move on to the next place to start the cycle all over again.

He hates his curse. That’s what it is: a _curse_.

 

 


End file.
